Wandworks
by taxi.cab.to.nowhere
Summary: If you found out that you were a wizard, how would you react? Six Muggles discover the magical world beyond their sleepy London neighbourhoods as they attend Hogwarts. Set during GoF.
1. I: In Which, We Meet Nathan and Others

**A/N: **So...this is my Harry Potter OC story. It's about six 14-year-olds who get accepted to Hogwarts late (original, right? Wait, it should get better). Anyways, they're in the same year as Potter and his friends. I hope you enjoy my story (nothing magicky happens for a couple chapters, but bear with me here!)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter or its characters. Any of the characters you don't recognize, I made up. Harry Potter and its people, places and things belong to J.K. Rowling. Thanks much!

* * *

Nathan Adder's entire family was composed of Pureblooded witches and wizards. His father, Joseph Adder, was extremely skilled in healing spells and potions (he worked at St. Mungo's) while his mother Carmina Adder could do practically anything with her wand. His older sister Gabriella had just graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with high scores on her N.E.W.T.s and praise from many of her teachers as a brilliant and level headed young witch. Nathan's grandparents on both sides were well-known Purebloods in the wizarding community, and Nathan's Uncle Stephan worked at the Ministry of Magic. As for Nathan... well. When Nathan was born, he blinked twice and a potted plant in the hospital waiting room exploded into brightly coloured fireworks. After that, Nathan had showed no sign of magical ability. On his 11th birthday, the time when his Hogwarts letter was to come, nothing happened. 

His parents tried not to look too disappointed but, as his sister explained in a sympathetic tone before she left for her fifth year at Hogwarts, he was the first in his family for generations to be born a Squib.

_Squib_. That was a particular word that left a bitter taste in Nathan's mouth every time he heard it.

He might as well have been born to Muggles - to many Purebloods in the wizarding community, the word 'Squib' was synonymous to 'Muggle'.

Nathan was thus raised with both wizarding and Muggle values, customs and rules. He took the tube to his Muggle public school, went shopping at Muggle malls, took the Floo Powder network to visit relatives and collected Quidditch posters (which he plastered all over his walls next to his favourite Muggle bands).

Nathan was now fourteen. He had his father's light brown hair and his mother's cappuccino skin. He lived on Randolph Road in Little Venice in a comfortable two-story, four-bedroom house with his parents and his sister. He took art classes at the Cascade Floating Art Gallery and often took the train to various malls and events with his friends. Most of his friends were Muggles, since he never had the chance to be in places wizarding kids frequented.

On June 31st, 1994 at exactly 11:39pm Nathan's life changed drastically. Seven hours and thirty-nine minutes earlier, Nathan was on a train heading for Paddington Station along with his two Muggle friends.

To Nathan's left was his Muggle friend Laura Taylor. Laura was a tall girl with an oval, serious-looking face. Her caramel coloured hair was French-braided in a plait down her neck and her blue-green eyes were focused on the pile of change in her hand. She was counting the coins under her breath, something that had become a habit especially during tough Math tests. "I think the cashier at that restaurant ripped me off!" she complained to Nathan's other Muggle friend Misako Asanuma. Misako was nursing a cup of coffee in one hand and holding her brand new red handbag in the other. She was a startlingly pretty Asian girl with slightly wavy black hair. Her long bangs were streaked golden-blonde and swept over the left side of her face.

"You dropped a 5-pence coin under your seat," she informed Laura. Laura looked bemused. "Did I?" she asked, lifting her sneakers off the floor for a better look. Misako nodded.

"Yup."

Laura bent over at the waist and groped quite fearlessly along the dirty floor of the public train. Beside her, Misako wrinkled her nose delicately.

Laura finally straightened up, triumphant, a shiny coin tucked between two of her knuckles. Nathan rolled his eyes and grinned as a cool female voice announced, "_Paddington Station_" over the PA system and the train started to slow.

Seconds later Nathan, Laura, and Misako stepped onto the platform at Paddington Station. The high, curved glass ceiling let in the late afternoon light and the station was filled with people coming to and from various places.

Paddington Station vaguely reminded Nathan of King's Cross Station, which brought back bitter memories of standing on Platform 9 ¾ every fall since he was eight, waving goodbye to his sister as she boarded the scarlet train to Hogwarts.

Nathan remembered himself at the age of ten, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waved enthusiastically at the great scarlet train pulling away from the platform.

_He tugged urgently on his mother's skirt hem and reminded her, "Just one more year Mummy, and I'll get my letter too, right?"_

_His mother's smile was slightly strained, even to his ten-year-old eyes, as she looked down at him and placed a hand on his head. "Yes sweetie," she told him, "One more year."_

Nathan also remembered a particular time when he was twelve, watching his mother and sister exchange hugs, when he was tapped on the shoulder by a boy about his age. Everything about the boy had been cool and slick – his white-blonde hair was slicked back against his skull, his robes were sleek and spotless, and his luggage was all glistening black leather and shiny silver buckles.

"_Where's your luggage?" the boy asked him. "You're going to be late boarding the train."_

_His voice was as slick as his hair. Nathan shook his head, embarrassed. "I don't have any." _

_The boy arched one perfectly groomed eyebrow. "By that you mean it's already on the train?"_

_Nathan gave a nervous laugh. "No, I mean, I don't have any."_

_The boy's face took on a look of confusion and then he stiffened, coming to the final realization. Nathan could practically see the word reflected in his eyes: _Squib._ His stare seemed to be a mixture of disgust and reluctant sympathy. _Squib.

"Hey, there's Damia!" Misako called, pointing across the crowd and bringing Nathan out of his memories. Nathan waved at his other Muggle friend, Damia Archer as she fought her way through the bodies to join them. Damia was a beanpole of a girl, with frizzy auburn hair and hazel eyes in a round, ruddy face. She was carrying a black shoulder bag that no doubt held her work uniform and had a cheese bun held between her teeth. She removed it as she ran up to them, grinning widely.

"Hey Dames." Laura greeted. "Are you heading home?"

Damia had a job in Westbourne Grove at a very fashionable boutique. Every Monday, Wednesday and Saturday afternoon she took the underground tube from Holland Park (near where she lived) to Notting Hill Gate.

Damia started chewing on the nail of her left thumb, a nervous habit from when she was very little. "Yeah… I kinda…got lost and ended up…here."

Laura stared at her. "Damia, how the heck can you get _lost_? Aren't Paddington Station and Notting Hill Gate on two completely different lines?"

Damia sniffed, her face flushing. "Well…yeah." She gave her friend a beseeching look. "How do I get home from here?"

"Let's see…" Laura squinted at the air, thinking. "You could take the Circle Line, 'cause it coincides with the East London Line near Holland Park."

Damia winced. "Man, this is gonna cost me an awful lot of train tickets…my mum's going to kill me."

Nathan smiled as he watched the two go back and forth. This was nothing new. Damia was a bright enough kid, but she couldn't find her way out of a paper bag. She usually went places with her friends so she wouldn't get lost.

Damia heaved a sigh as Laura kindly pointed her in the way of the gates to the Circle Line ("and remember to get on the Circle line heading towards _Bayswater_ Damia, that's very important, not towards Edgware Road, that's in the opposite direction of your apartment." "Oh God," whined a befuddled Damia. "I'm gonna forget!")

"Poor Damia," Laura laughed as Damia bid each of them a harried farewell (pulling Nathan into a one-armed hug that choked him round the neck) and then made a sprint towards the Underground entrance.

Nathan chuckled along with her, and then checked his watch. "I have to get home, my mum was expecting me ages ago."

"Oh, okay." Laura nodded. "Misako's going to my house for dinner. We'll catch up with you later?"

"Definitely." They exited the station, exchanged hugs and set off their separate ways, Laura and Misako towards Sheldon Square and Nathan towards Randolph Road.

Fifteen minutes later, Nathan was opening the wrought-iron garden gate and taking the front steps of his house two at a time. The sun was starting to set as Nathan pulled a key from his jeans pocket started to fit it in to his front door. He paused. Looking up and down Randolph Road furtively, he turned back to the door, pointed his right index finger at the lock and whispered, "_Alohamora_."

A pigeon cooed from a nearby gutter. A car started up somewhere down the street and Nathan nearly jumped out of his skin. He tried the door. It was still locked.

Nathan didn't know why he felt so disappointed that pointing at a lock had no effect whatsoever. It was four years after the fact he was supposed to receive his Hogwarts letter…and he was going to have to accept the fact that he was a Squib. But for some reason, standing in the golden glow of near twilight, he had felt a rush of excitement, a feeling that something was going to happen.

Nathan slid his key into the lock, opened his door and stepped into his house.

Across the street his neighbour, Florence Gresham, was vacuuming the entryway carpet when her front door swung open by itself. She stared at it, surprised.

"Must've forgotten to lock it," she murmured to herself.

* * *

Nathan made a detour into the kitchen to give his mum a kiss on the cheek and apologize for his lateness. Carmina Adder, a stout woman with coarse, dark hair, gave him a smile. "Don't worry about it Nathan. Drop your stuff off in your room and we'll have dinner in a minute, okay?" 

Nathan nodded and tromped up the stairs to his room. His door was painted a dark red and was shut and locked. Undoing the latch, Nathan stepped into his room and got a pillow in the face.

Someone broke out into giggles as Nathan spluttered and ripped the pillow from his vision. His older sister, Gabriella, was sitting on his bed, shuffling through his variety of CDs that were crammed awkwardly into the hanging CD rack above his stereo.

"MUM!" Nathan shouted down the stairwell. "Gabby Apparated into my room without permission again!"

"Gabby!" his mother's voice floated up to the siblings. "Get out of your brother's room! Come down here and help me set the table.

Sticking out her tongue at her younger brother, Gabriella heaved herself off his bed, flicking her straight dark brown hair over her shoulder. "Thanks for squealing." She told him snidely before Disapparating with a _pop_.

Feeling frustrated and non-magical, he slammed his bedroom door shut for emphasis.

The word 'Squib', Nathan decided as he pulled out a random CD and stuck it into his stereo, was a word that sounded like something very unpleasant that you find squished on your shoe.

_That_ was what this whole magic business made him feel like.

* * *

**A/N: **That's my first chapter! Nothing's really happened, but...it'll get better! (winning smile) Promise! 


	2. II: In Which, There Are Odd Occurances

**A/N: **Second chapter! I don't have much to say about this chapter, so...enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter or its characters. I can only take credit for the characters I make up. Everything else belongs to the incomparable J.K. Rowling (and maybe Warner Bros.)

* * *

Damia practically sprinted from Holland Park Station to her family's apartment in Holland Park Gardens. The Gardens were considered to be the most romantic gardens in London, and Damia nearly upturned several lovey-dovey couples as she took a shortcut through a rather pretty, quiet part of the park. Damia finally reached the doorway of the apartment block, Abbotsbury House. Her apartment was on the eighth floor and when she stepped out of the elevator she could hear the twins, Gabriel and Bryan, shouting excitedly at someone.

Damia's brothers were ten years old. They both had shocks of curly, cherub blonde hair, round mischievous faces and dark oval eyes. They looked totally unlike her except for their sharp noses. As Damia let herself in, her brothers were dashing around the living room. In the centre of all the chaos was one Naomi Winchel, clutching a large white shoulder bag and looking worn out. Naomi was a thin, attractive girl with jet-black, shoulder length hair and slightly slanted brown eyes. Damia squealed and threw herself at the girl. "Naomi! When did you get back from California?!"

Naomi grinned. "Just this morning. You're the first person I came to see." Naomi, always a bit star-struck, had been thrilled when her parents suggested going to Hollywood for summer vacation (in fact, she persuaded her parents to leave a week earlier, before school ended).

Damia regarded her suspiciously. "What, and you haven't gone to say hello to Charlie yet?"

Naomi had been dating Charlie for approximately two weeks. He was tall, blonde, and rugged (he was also seventeen to Naomi's fourteen). Naomi shrugged dismissively. "All right, so you're the first _friend_ I came to see."

Damia rolled her eyes at her friend. "D'you wanna stay over for a while?" she asked Naomi. "My mum and dad are going out and they asked me to baby-sit Gabriel and Bryan."

Naomi threw up her hands. "I knew there was a catch!" At her friend's pleading look, Naomi added, "All right, I'll stay if we watch a really violent action movie. That always makes them sit still."

Damia sighed heavily, but relented. "Okay, but if my brothers grow up to be violent serial killers, it's _your_ fault."

* * *

The last few rays of evening sunlight were streaming through the slits in Laura's bedroom's blinds. Laura was sprawled on her bed, flipping through several magazines at once. Laura's two giant St. Bernard dogs, Eeyore and Ernie, were attacking Misako. Laura laughed as she watched Eeyore drag his long tongue across the side of Misako's face. Misako squealed.

Misako's mother didn't allow pets in their home, so she enjoyed spending time with either Laura's two dogs or Nathan's cat, Macaroni.

"Who's a good boy?" Misako made kissy faces at Ernie. Ernie whined and pawed at Misako's leg. "Who's a good boy? Ernie's a good boy!"

"Mi, if you're going to do that all day…" Laura looked pointedly at her friend. Misako sighed. "Oh, fine…Eeyore! Ernie! What's over there?" she pointed to the hallway. The two dogs perked their ears up and bounded out of the room in a flurry of shaggy fur coats.

Misako shut the door behind them and tried to ignore their pitiful whining.

"So is your dad back yet?" Misako asked Laura. Laura looked wistful. "No, he's still in Russia."

Laura's father, Terrence Taylor, was a businessman whose dealings took him all over the world, usually short trips to North America. This time, however, he was attending a conference in St. Petersburg for three weeks.

"And then, he comes back for three days and has to leave for Salt Lake City."

Misako smiled wryly. "How does your mother feel about that?"

Laura grinned back. Both girls knew how irritated Laura's mother, Sheila Taylor, got when Terrence didn't spend enough time at home.

"She feels about the same as she did three weeks ago." Laura replied jokingly.

"My dad used to travel a little for his business," Misako mused. "Although it was mostly to Asia."

Laura stared at her friend. Misako didn't usually talk about her dad. Neither did her mother. When Misako was six, her father had been found dead in an alleyway. The autopsy concluded that he had died of natural causes. Misako's mother had become extremely strict with her daughter, enforcing all sorts of curfews and rules (Misako had failed on numerous occasions to adhere to all the rules and mostly wound up grounded).

In all the years Laura had known Misako, she had only talked about her father twice – once to explain his disappearance and now this.

Laura put her magazine aside. "Do you remember anything about your dad?" she asked quietly. Misako smiled.

"I don't remember much. Only, you know, a bit of his face. Mostly I just look at old photographs, but my mum saw me looking at them once and put them somewhere."

The two girls were silent as the sun set behind the house.

* * *

The only phone in Nathan's entire house rang when he was sitting at the dining room table with his family. His mother jumped and put a hand to her heart. She picked the phone up by two fingers like it was a dirty rag and handed it to him. His parents, though they encouraged his participation in Muggle activities, did not own a dishwasher or a telly. They had only owned a phone for two months (his friends had thought it was a bit strange that his family had no phone and it took a while to convince his parents to install one). Nathan shook his head at his mother, and took the phone around the corner into the living room.

"Hello?"

"HI NATHAN!" Nathan pulled the phone from his ear, wincing.

"Hi Lee." The loud, excited voice could only belong to Lee Owen, a short, redheaded girl that had gone to the same junior high school as him. "I thought you were visiting your aunt in Brighton?"

"We didn't stay very long. I don't know, my father just doesn't like to be around my aunt ever since my uncle went to prison…"

Nathan made a sympathetic noise. "Anyways," Lee continued perkily. "What are you doing?"

"Well, I _was_ having dinner with my parents," Nathan started, but Lee cut in, "Okay! I'll call back later then!"

"Okay, well – " Lee was off the phone before Nathan could finish his sentence.

Nathan stared at the phone, and then walked back into the kitchen to replace the phone. "Who was that?" his mother asked as he sat back down. "Lee. Remember her? She's been over here several times."

Nathan's mother nodded. "Oh yes. If you're going to do something later, remember to not invite her over. I'm mixing something up and it won't be ready until at least tomorrow."

Nathan glanced over at the stove, where a small cauldron of violent purple potion was simmering on the heat unit.

"Right."

* * *

"Blech. Remind me why I'm watching this again??" Damia whined, pressing her back against the couch as the TV screen in front of her played _Terminator_, the metal skeleton of the Terminator chasing two people into a factory. Naomi, curled up at the end of the couch with a bowl of popcorn, motioned with her head towards Damia's brothers, who were staring at the screen in rapture. "That's why," she answered. Damia buried her head in her hands as the protagonist drove a metal axle into the Terminator's torso.

After the movie, however, was a totally different story.

"I'll be back!" Bryan drawled in a horrible German accent, pointing his fingers in the shape of a gun at Gabriel. Gabriel, meanwhile, had clambered onto the table and was attempting to do the robot, before pointing his fingers back at his brother and making machine-gun sound effects.

Damia shoved two couch cushions over her ears. "One day, Naomi, I'm going to purposely make myself go deaf."

Naomi was trying to watch a soap opera over all the ruckus, turning the volume up all the way.

Bryan aimed his "gun" at Gabriel and pretended to fire. Gabriel did a dramatic roll out of the way and consequently off the table, cracking his head against the side of a chair. Bryan was left pointing at one of the wall lamps that adorned the dining room. As he pointed, the lamp shattered, sending chunks of frosted glass across the room. Naomi instinctively dived to the floor and Damia screamed, throwing down the couch cushions. Startled, Bryan stumbled backwards and fell out of view. Gabriel started crying, heaving himself up onto the chair he had fell on. As he gave a particular ear-splitting scream, the TV screen flickered and went dark.

"Holy shit, what was that?!" Naomi spluttered as she got up again. The apartment was silent except for Gabriel's crying.

Damia and Naomi exchanged puzzled looks. Damia carefully shook glass off her lap and hurried over to her brothers. Naomi picked up the telephone. "What's your landlord's number?" she asked. Damia told her and she started to dial.

* * *

**A/N: **Stay tuned for the third chapter! 


	3. III: In Which, There Are Many Animals

**A/N: **Third chapter! Things start happening here, I promise!

**Disclaimer: **I only own the characters I made up! Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling

* * *

"Well, there's nothing serious here," said Mr. Allendale, straightening up. Theodore Allendale was the landlord of Damia's apartment house. He was a rather small, slightly hunched man in his late 40s, with thin brown hair and comically large grey eyes (Naomi sometimes called him the 'Owl Man').

"There's nothing wrong with the wiring. It must have been a random power surge."

Damia nodded, pressing an ice compress against Gabriel's head. Bryan was snivelling miserably from his spot on the couch. "_I_ made the lamp explode," he whimpered. Naomi, sitting beside him, put her arm around the little boy. "No, you didn't Bry. You were _waaaay_ across the room. You heard Mr. Allendale; it was a power surge."

"I – I pointed at it an' I _shot_ it." Bryan insisted. Naomi shot a worried look at Damia.

"Bryan, you didn't have a real gun. You didn't make the lamp explode." Damia explained slowly.

Mr. Allendale was staring intently at Bryan, his smoky eyes wide. "Do things like this happen often?" he asked.

Bryan looked terrified. "N-no." he managed to get out. Damia narrowed her eyes at the landlord. "Thank you, Mr. Allendale. I think we'll be all right from here."

Mr. Allendale blinked. "Of course. Have a good night, girls."

Damia waved politely after Mr. Allendale before locking the door behind him. Naomi sank back onto the couch and tried the TV. It flickered on like nothing had happened and started blaring the end credits of the soap opera. There was a small moment of confusion until Naomi found the volume button and turned the TV down.

Damia turned to Gabriel and Bryan wearily. "Okay you two," she sighed. "Time for bed."

The usual whines were slightly muted as Damia sheparded her two brothers into the bathroom and then into their bedroom.

"Do you need any Aspirin?" she asked Gabriel, who shook his head. Bryan sadly tucked himself into his bed. Damia knelt by his bedside. "Bryan, don't worry about it, okay? You didn't do anything."

Bryan nodded, looking unconvinced. Damia leaned closer to her brother. "When I was little," she whispered. "Sometimes strange stuff happened to me too. But it was all coincidences. Sometimes these things happen. 'Kay, Bry?"

Bryan nodded again. Damia squeezed his hand reassuringly and started towards the door.

"Do you guys want me to plug in your old nightlight?" she teased before she left.

"Damia-a!" came two identical whines. "We're not _babies_!"

Damia laughed and snapped off the bedroom light.

* * *

The doorbell rang and Nathan opened the door to find Lee Owen on his doorstep, a sling bag on her shoulder. 

"Hey Nathan!" she chirped. "Sorry for not calling, but my mum was visiting a friend in the area so I thought I'd drop by.

Nathan took a glance over his shoulder. Gabriella took this time to walk towards the stairs levitating her old textbooks with her wand. She noticed the front door open, squeaked, and made the books disappear with a_ pop_.

Lee leaned to the side to look around Nathan. "What was that?"

Nathan put his arm out to block her view. "My sister…is moving her stuff around. She just graduated, remember?"

"Oh yeah!" Lee grinned. "So you're probably busy then? Never mind, I'll call tomorrow."

"No, Lee, wait," Nathan grabbed her shoulder. "It sucks that you came all this way for nothing. I have a few minutes before – ah – before I have to help my sister with stuff. We could sit outside and talk?"

Lee's pretty face lit up. "Sure! You're the first friend I've talked to since I got back."

The two friends sat down on Nathan's doorstep. It was already dark, but the light from the street lamps and Nathan's living room gave the warm outside air a cozy feel.

Nathan liked talking to Lee. Though sometimes incredibly immature, Lee could talk about anything and everything, be it about family or music, books or politics. For a while they talked about nothing in particular, until Lee brought something up.

"When I was at my aunt's house," she started, drumming her fingernails. "I was trying to balance on her fence when I lost my balance and fell. I hit the ground on my head…but I bounced!"

Nathan stared. "You…bounced?"

Lee's face started to flush. "Yeah! I just…hit the ground and bounced right onto my feet! It didn't hurt or anything!"

"That's weird. Maybe the ground was really mushy." Nathan suggested. Lee looked down at her hands thoughtfully.

"Maybe. I dunno. It was…really weird."

Nathan had a sudden flashback to him standing at his door, pointing his finger and whispering forbidden words at his doorknob. A strange feeling came over him – he almost wanted to ask Lee if she was a witch. He caught himself at the last moment as a battered station wagon pulled up outside Nathan's house. Lee's mother, Delilah Owen, leaned out the window and honked the horn.

"Liana!" she howled. "We're ready to go!"

In the back of the station wagon was Lee's one-year-old brother Aaron, who plastered a chubby hand against the car window.

Lee heaved herself onto her feet. "COMING!" she yelled back.

"I've got to go," she told Nathan.

"I can tell." Nathan replied dryly. Lee pulled him into a hug and then dashed down the walk to the family's station wagon. Nathan waved after her and then went back into his house.

"Is it _all clear_ yet?" Gabriella asked irritably from around the living room doorframe. Nathan blinked.

"Oh! Yeah, it's OK Gabby. Lee left."

Gabby rolled her eyes at her brother as she walked back towards the staircase. Her trunk and her cauldron followed dutifully behind her.

* * *

The world of magic works in mysterious, yet sometimes well-timed, ways. For example, on June 31st, 1994, a man known as Professor Albus Dumbledore was just finishing up the paperwork regarding the famed Triwizard Tournament being held at one Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

At 10:32pm of the same day, several employees of the Ministry of Magic (Nathan's uncle included) were tirelessly going through a long list of the locations of several hundred Portkeys.

An hour later, Professor Minerva McGonagall Apparated into her office and in the course of seven minutes, sealed six letters into six envelopes.

At 11:39pm the envelopes were travelling (through different means and methods) across the shadowy city of London towards their intended destinations.

* * *

Laura was half-asleep, her face smooshed awkwardly against her arm when she heard the tapping on her window. Misako jerked awake from her spot on the floor and brushed hair out of her eyes. "What is that?" she groaned. 

Laura pushed herself up onto her elbows. There was an odd shape on the other side of her blinds. As she swung her legs over the side of her bed to investigate, she stepped on Eeyore and Ernie's squeaky chew toy. The dying sound of the squeak echoed through the silent house. Laura winced as, down the stairwell, she heard the padding of large, furry paws.

"What's going on?" Misako asked sleepily. Ernie and Eeyore thundered into the room with the grace of twin avalanches. Laura threw up her blinds to reveal…

…a small spotted burrowing owl with a letter tied to its leg, tapping the glass with a small brown beak.

The two girls stared at it, bemused. The owl paused to stare dolefully back with luminous yellow eyes. Once it saw they weren't going to do anything, it resumed its tapping. Eeyore and Ernie added to the noise with sharp whining, thumping their tails anxiously in unison against the floor.

"…Should we let it in?" Misako asked, as it became clear the owl wasn't going away. Laura thought for a moment and then shrugged. "If that will make it stop that annoying tapping."

Quickly, the caramel-haired girl unlatched the window and pushed it open. The owl shuffled backwards to allow her to do so and then squeezed through the small opening into Laura's room. Instantly, the owl found itself accosted by two large, furry canine faces.

Ernie gave a particularly threatening bark and the owl panicked, flitting to the other end of the room. In doing so it excited Eeyore and Ernie, who began howling – Misako was bowled over by Eeyore as he reared up on his hind legs to snap at the owl's tail feathers.

Eventually the owl noticed Laura's bedroom door ajar and escaped into the hallways. Eeyore and Ernie followed, barking up a storm. Misako and Laura exchanged panicked glances. Laura's mum was going to _kill_ them for letting a wild owl into the house.

* * *

When Sheila Taylor came barging out of her bedroom, wrapped in a fuzzy bathrobe and sporting curlers in her honey-coloured hair, she found a scene of total chaos. The two family dogs were bouncing around in the already cramped hallway, pink tongues wagging enthusiastically. 

There was an owl flying frantically above all their heads in various directions, getting tangled in the light fixture, the curtains and the banister.

Her daughter and her friend were in their pyjamas and making desperate grabs at the owl as it flew past, all the while trying to quiet the dogs down.

"Laura Taylor!" her mother shrieked. "What in the world is going on out here?!"

Laura and Misako flashed sheepish grins.

"Oh! Hi Mum!"

"Hi Mrs. Taylor…"

Mrs. Taylor reached up and captured the owl by its leg – once she had it in her arms and Laura and Misako had restrained the two dogs, the owl became much more calm and allowed Laura's mother to slip the letter off its leg. Once the owl was relieved of its burden, it flew back into Laura's bedroom and sought refuge in her closet (last Laura saw of it, it was burrowed somewhere in the sleeve of Laura's school uniform).

Mrs. Taylor's eyes passed quickly over the writing on the front of the letter and then flipped it over to stare at the wax seal. Her eyes widened and all colour drained from her face.

Laura and Misako exchanged worried looks. "…Mum?" Laura asked finally. "What's wrong?"

Mrs. Taylor turned to Misako. "Misako, dear, why don't you take Ernie and Eeyore downstairs and put the kettle on?"

Misako nodded and led the two big dogs down the staircase.

Wordlessly, Mrs. Taylor passed the enveloped to her daughter. Laura stared at the spindly green writing on the front:

_Ms. L. Taylor_

_The Upstairs Room Facing the Garden_

_Sheldon Square_

_London_

"Mum?" Laura looked up at her mother's anxious face. "What's this about?"

"Just…open it, Laura." Her mother replied.

Laura split the wax seal with her fingernail and unfolded the thin paper inside.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)_

_Dear Ms. Taylor,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The owl that delivered this letter was meant as a gift – please keep it. As your acceptance into our school is an unusual and late case, you will be required to attend weekend study classes to catch up on the four years of school you missed. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1__st__. Please be at Platform 9 ¾ at 11 o' clock sharp to catch your train. _

_Yours sincerely,_

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Laura refolded the letter. "Mum, what is this? Is this a joke? What kind of school is named 'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry'?"

Mrs. Taylor's joyful shriek could've burst Laura's eardrums if she was standing any closer. "Oh, LAURA!" she screeched, and pulled her daughter into a rib-cracking hug.

"AUGH! Mum! What the hell?!"

"Oh, I always knew you were special sweetheart!" Mrs. Taylor wiped tears from her face. "I just knew it! And now look at you – you've got your Hogwarts letter!"

"Would you mind explaining? Please?" Laura asked (secretly, she wondered if her mother had lost her mind).

Mrs. Taylor composed herself, straightened a few of her curlers, and then replied, "Laura…you're a witch."

Silence.

"Sorry? I'm a what?"

"You're a _witch_ dear! Same as your grandma and grandpa."

Laura continued to stare at her mother. "So – you're trying to tell me that Baba and Grandpapa are witches?"

"Well, your Grandpapa's a wizard, but…never mind! I know you're a bit confused right now, but I don't want to explain this to you while there's a Muggle in the house…"

"A what?"

"Your friend Misako. She's a Muggle – that's what witches and wizards call non-magical people. That's what your grandma and I thought you were a Muggle too. Well, until now, obviously…OH Laura, I'm SO PROUD!"

"MUM! Stop hugging me!!!"

"Mrs. Taylor?" Misako's voice drifted up from downstairs.

Laura's mum leaned over the banister. "Found the kettle all right, dear?"

Misako's voice sounded hesitant. "Yeah, it's just that – Mrs. Taylor, there's a rabbit sitting on your kitchen table."

* * *

**A/N: **Yay! My story is not so boring anymore! 


	4. IV: In Which, Post Arrives

**A/N: **Fourth chapter! More people learn about the wonders of the wizarding world...whee!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter - the ideas, places, and people belong to J.K. Rowling. Any people you don't recognize, I've made up.

* * *

When Laura and her mum reached the kitchen, they saw that Misako was not lying – right in the middle of their old, worn beech wood table was a fluffy rabbit, brown with hazelnut flecks. Misako was sitting in a chair, petting and cooing at it. Neither of the Taylors missed the letter fastened to its neck.

Misako took the letter from the rabbit as it lazily hopped onto her lap and examined the green lettering on the front.

"_Ms. M. Asanuma_

_L. Taylor's Room_

_Sheldon Square_

_London_. What is this, d'you think?"

Both Laura and her mum let out identical shrieks and leapt on Misako.

"Now you can tell me Mum, now that Misako's not a – Muggle anymore!"

"I'm a what?" Misako asked blankly.

"Okay, okay!" Mrs. Taylor laughed and threw up her hands. "I'll tell you, but first why don't we make some tea?"

* * *

Damia rubbed her eyes irritably. She was currently curled up on one side of the couch, eyes drooping and tired from the brightness of the TV. Naomi was noisily munching through a third bag of chips. "D'you want to go to bed, Dames?" she asked, noticing her friend's lack of enthusiasm for the cop show on TV. Damia waved her away.

"Nah, I want to see how this ends – _then _I'll go to bed…"

Naomi shrugged and then reached down by her calf for the chip bag. On the way, her hand brushed something cool and smooth – Naomi didn't take much notice of it (she initially thought she had brushed against Damia's leg) until the cool and smooth thing started moving and wrapped itself around her wrist. Naomi screeched and started waving her arm around in the air. "OMIGOD, SOMETHING'S ON MEEEEEE!"

Damia jumped up. "What?! What's going on???" Squinting at the blur that was Naomi's arm she could make out something olive green wound around her friend's lower arm. A white rectangular envelope fell to the floor during the commotion.

Eventually, Damia managed to calm her friend down and remove the 'thing' (a common grass snake with a yellow and black collar) from her arm. The snake had been hissing dangerously but calmed considerably when Damia handled it. Eventually she let the snake slip into the baggy pockets of her jeans. Naomi looked on in disgust.

"You're _keeping_ it?"

"Yeah! I've always liked snakes, and we've got an old glass aquarium in the spare room that used to hold fish. I could keep it there."

Damia looked the room over quickly. "I wonder how it got in…"

"Hey!" Naomi had spotted the envelope on the floor and knelt down to examine it. "It's addressed to you, Damia!"

Damia took it from her and read the green handwriting on the front:

_Ms. D. Archer_

_The Smallest Bedroom _

_Abbotsbury House, Holland Park_

_London_

"Huh." Naomi had bent at the waist and was studying the wax seal on the opposite side of the envelope. "This is a pretty fancy looking crest. D'you know who it's from?"

"No," Damia replied absentmindedly. "There's no return address…"

There was a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, a mixture of excitement and trepidation when she held that letter in her hands.

"Well? Are you going to open it?" Naomi was staring at her with her hands on her hips. Damia raised her eyebrows.

"Gee Naomi, it's a mysterious letter that appeared out of nowhere with no return address, addressed to me."

Naomi blinked. "Yeah? And?"

Damia heaved a sigh of annoyance and clumsily ripped open the envelope.

Just then, Gabriel and Bryan padded into the living room, wiping sleep from their eyes. "What's wrong?" Bryan asked.

"We heard screaming," Gabriel added. Damia dug the snake from her pocket and her brothers crowded around it.

"So cool!"

"Can I have it, Dames?"

"No." Damia replied sternly. "Now back to bed."

"You're not our mother," Gabriel muttered crossly, but Damia shot him a blistering 'older sister' stare and he complied reluctantly.

"Okay," Damia returned her gaze to the envelope, and pulled the folded letter from inside. As she skimmed it, Naomi noticed something clinging to the underside of the coffee table. She knelt and batted at the thing. The 'thing' unfolded its papery black wings and dug small sharp claws into Naomi's tank top strap. Naomi knocked her head on the coffee table as she reeled backwards (thankfully, she didn't scream again).

Damia, who had been goggling at the contents of the letter, shot her a strange look. "What are you – Naomi, there's a bat on your shirt."

And so there was. The little animal yawned squeakily and blinked blearily, coal black eyes up at the girl.

Naomi's bottom lip quivered. "It – it's so _cute_!" she squealed. Damia glared. "Oh sure, you thought the snake wasn't cute, but the little rat-like thing…perfectly okay."

Naomi gasped in shock. "It's not rat-like! Are you Nautilus??" she cooed at the bat (who squeaked again).

"…Nautilus?" Damia asked.

"It's the name of the submarine from _Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea_." Naomi sniffed.

"What a random name." Damia commented. Naomi refrained from retorting by stooping to pick up the envelope that had fallen from the little bat.

"Hey, I've got a letter too!" she exclaimed.

_Ms. N. Winchel_

_D. Archer's Living Room_

_Abbotsbury House, Holland Park_

_London_

"Look at mine, it says I've been accepted into a school for witches. How stupid is that?" Damia laughed.

Naomi's eyes widened. "Are you serious?!"

Quickly, she ripped open the envelope and read her letter.

"Naomi?" Damia looked over at her friend. "Naomi, are you _hyperventilating_?"

* * *

Nathan found a toad in the garden with a letter tied to its foot.

He had sat outside long after Lee's station wagon disappeared behind a street corner, long after the street turned dark and the moon daisies in the terra cotta pot had unfolded their brilliant white petals to the sky. His mother had stopped outside to say goodnight. He felt her press a soft kiss to the top of his head, and smiled.

"What are you thinking about so late?" his mother asked. His mother constantly smelled like vanilla, a scent he had always found comforting. He took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled.

"I'm just thinking – I'm fourteen, and I guess all this time I kept hoping that I could still be a wizard. But, I think I'm going to have to accept the fact that I'm a Squib."

His mother crouched down and hugged him. "Oh, Nathan. I don't want you always moping around and thinking about the life you missed because you weren't a wizard. You have the best of both worlds – you're exposed to Muggle life and also to magic. Okay?"

"Okay. Thanks mum."

Now it was nearly midnight, and the air was getting quite chilly. Nathan wrapped arms around himself and looked up at the sky. "Okay," he muttered to himself. "My mum's right. If I just keep getting depressed whenever I think about magic, I'm going to spend my whole life wanting what I haven't got. I need to – "

"Croak."

Nathan paused, blinked, and looked down at his mother's flowerbeds. Sitting in a clump of petunias was a fat, brownish-yellowish toad, who gave a few more thick wet croaks and then slowly hopped forwards towards Nathan's foot.

Nathan looked up and down his street. It was silent and deserted. He looked back at the toad. It was getting the envelope rather slimy. He picked the toad up and looked at the envelope's front:

_Mr. N. Adder_

_The Outside Steps_

_Randolph Road, Little Venice_

_London_

Nathan turned it over and looked at the Hogwarts crest. His throat closed up and he choked.

_Omigod_ he thought. _Okay, don't freak out. Maybe…maybe Hogwarts sends Squibs advertisements? Or maybe…okay, I don't know what it is._

_So open it, Nathan, for God's sake! Are you scared? This might be what you've always wanted, what you've always complained of not having, and you're going to just stare at it like an idiot! _

_Open it! Open it! Open it! Open it!_

Nathan stopped chanting in his head and slit open the wax seal.

He read over his Hogwarts letter – the same, he realized later, as his other five friends', apologizing for the late letter and that the toad was meant as a gift (great, Nathan thought as he stared at the fat toad in his lap, his sister gets a sleek Siamese cat named Minky and he gets a lethargic toad). He read over the letter at least three more times, and then sat back, legs weak and mind racing.

Should he wake his parents up? Or should he wait?

Nathan stood up, taking the toad with him, and went into his house.

* * *

Lee had no idea why there was a cat on her apartment balcony at midnight. All she knew is, she had walked into the kitchen for a glass of water and had seen the cat, just sitting there (it wouldn't have been strange, except her family lived on the third floor).

When Lee opened the sliding glass door, the cat was perched on the metal railing, staring at her with slanted eyes. There was a letter fastened to its cord collar. The cat was completely black except for its white feet and one white splotch on its face.

"C'mon kitty," Lee wheedled (it was cold and had started to rain a little bit, so she was hovering inside the house, unwilling to go outside). The cat swished its tail languidly, considering her, before mewling and following her inside.

Lee patted the cat down with a tea towel and set out a bit of tuna for it. As it was eating, she took the letter from it and looked it over.

"Hm," Lee murmured to herself, something she did when she was alone.

" '_Ms. L. Owen_

_The Bedroom with the Blue Walls_

_Empson Street_

_London_'. Is this a joke?"

Lee turned the envelope over, shrugged, and opened it.

The cat mewled again.

"Hogwarts? What the hell is Hogwarts?"

* * *

"Hogwarts is a school for witches and wizards. You learn magic there – like Potions, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts…you see girls, there are – how do I put this – there are two worlds coexisting alongside each other. There's the Muggle world you've been living in for fourteen years, existing with some of the most brilliant technology but without magic. Then there's the wizarding world, completely separate from the Muggle world. It's all going to be a bit strange to you at first, because it's so wonderfully different."

Laura and Misako stared at Laura's mother, wide-eyed.

"Normally, I wouldn't believe this, but since you're my mother I have no choice," Laura remarked. "So we – me and Misako – we really are witches? What about you? Aren't you a witch?"

Mrs. Taylor shook her head sadly. "I'm a Squib, I'm afraid. I was born to two wizards, and I never thought I could ever have the ability to pass the magic gene on to you, Laura. But when you were born, for the first four years of your life you showed immense magical ability. Wait, wait, I have a photo!"

Mrs. Taylor grabbed her purse off the kitchen counter and rummaged around until she pulled out a slightly worn photo. She handed it to Laura.

The first thing Laura and Misako noticed was that the picture was moving ("Oh yes!" Mrs. Taylor exclaimed. "In the wizarding world, the pictures move. It's a bit strange, I know, but imagine how the wizards must feel about the Muggle pictures that don't move!"). The second thing they noticed was that the photo was of a chubby little three-year-old, caramel coloured hair tied into pigtails and wearing a cute little pink sundress.

The little girl paused to smile widely at the camera, and then ran to her little plastic table, where plastic teacups were laid out at each of the places. With a wave of her hands, her large teddy bears floated up into the air, settled down into their places and – in unison – smooshed their faces into their plastic teacups.

"…Wow." Laura said. "I did that when I was that young?"

Mrs. Taylor nodded proudly. "I was so excited! It's almost impossible for the Muggle child of wizards to pass the dormant magic gene onto their children, but I had done it! Then, when you were four…you just stopped using magic. You had become a Muggle. We figured the gene wasn't dominant enough to override both me and your father's Muggle genes for long."

Mrs. Taylor squeezed her daughter's hand excitedly. "But now…your magical ability's come back! And you've both been accepted to the most prestigious wizarding school in the country!"

"So…you're actually going to let me go to this school?" Laura asked, confused.

"I would be crazy not to! You'll get the best wizarding education you'll ever need, and you'll be among your own kind! Oh…" Mrs. Taylor's eyes glistened rather dangerously (Laura held a hankie out just in case), "This is just what I dreamt of when I was your age! To see that Hogwarts seal and read those words…well. My time's past. But lucky you got it now, hm?"

"…Why?" Laura asked.

"Well, usually wizarding children receive their letter from Hogwarts when they're 11, and go to Hogwarts 'till they're 17 – seven years. I bet there have been few late arrivals – you'll be quite the object of talk around your school."

(Laura and Misako realized later, when they arrived at Hogwarts, that two late arriving 14-year-olds were at the back of everyone's minds that year).

"All right, so we'll have to go to Diagon Alley for your school supplies – Misako, you should talk to your mother and if she doesn't have the time or the ability to come with you for supplies, we could take you."

Laura massaged her temples. "This is all very, very interesting Mum, but…it's really late and Misako and I are awfully confused…"

"Oh! Of course. Tomorrow morning, Misako, you should go straight home and tell your mother about this. Then let me know if you need me to accompany you school shopping. Now," Mrs. Taylor eyed the girls hesitantly. "Any questions?"

Misako put down her teacup. Laura fiddled with the tablecloth.

"Oh, all right," Mrs. Taylor started to rise out of her seat, "I guess we should just – "

"Wait!" both girls blurted.

"Where's this Diagon Alley? What sort of school supplies are we getting?" Misako asked.

"How would we get to school? By – by brooms or something?" Laura added.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts? What is that?"

"Do we need to buy brooms?"

"What about wands?"

"What if we can't actually _do_ magic? Will we be expelled?"

"How come you never told me Gran and Grandpa were witches?"

"What kind of final exams do we write?"

"Are we allowed to visit home during Christmas break? Do witches even celebrate Christmas?"

"I don't know any magic spells. Do we have to learn them ahead of time?"

"If I'm a witch, can I levitate or – or shoot lasers out of my eyes or something?"

Mrs. Taylor groaned and poured herself another cup of tea. Evidentially, Laura and Misako had not been planning to go to bed after all.

* * *

It took Naomi five minutes to calm down. When she was finished, Damia was giving her a worried look. Down the hallway, two blonde heads peered around the bedroom doorframe.

Naomi eyed her friend suspiciously, and then snatched the letter from Damia's hands. Amidst Damia's protests, Naomi examined the letters side-by-side before shoving the letter back.

"I never knew you were from a magical family," she muttered accusingly, before flopping back down on the couch. Damia followed suit.

"What are you talking about?" she asked. Naomi jabbed her finger at Damia's letter.

"That!" she exclaimed. "I've been over here, what, hundreds of times? And all this time you were a witch and I didn't even see it!"

"Have you gone insane, Naomi? I'm not a witch. Obviously, this letter is some wacko's idea of a bizarre prank. Wait a minute…" Damia craned her neck to see down the dim hallway.

"You two don't have anything to do with this, do you?!"

There was the sound of hurried footsteps, creaking bedsprings and the chorus of, "We're asleep and can't hear you!" from the twins.

"If we were awake, though," Bryan added, "We would solemnly swear that we have no idea what you're talking about!"

Damia rolled her eyes. "I'm sort of disinclined to believe that," she called back.

"It's not a prank Damia," Naomi assured her impatiently. "If you have this letter than you're obviously a witch."

"I'm a witch, huh?" Damia sniggered. "Does that mean I'm entitled to a broom and a magic wand?"

"Yes!" Naomi nodded, so earnestly that Damia's laughter faltered. "Good grief. You really _are_ being serious."

"_Yes!_" Naomi cried in exasperation, and tugged Damia closer. "I'll explain…"

* * *

Down the hall, the twins strained to hear the conversation.

"Can you hear what they're saying?" Gabriel hissed. Bryan flapped his hand at him impatiently.

"…Something about a pig with warts – oh. And apparently, Damia's a bitch."

Gabriel and Bryan dissolved into breathless laughter until a considerably angrier, "Get to _bed_ you two!" sent them scurrying back into their room.

* * *

Nathan felt weightless and excited as he paced his room. Should he wait until the morning to break the good news? Would his parents care if he woke them up this early?

Nathan didn't know why, but a few minutes later he was creeping into his sister's room, Hogwarts acceptance letter in his hands.

"Gabriella!" he hissed. "Wake up!" The lump under his sister's bedcovers stirred slightly. Nathan started poking her with one of her bedroom slippers.

A leg emerged briefly to aim a kick at Nathan's shin. He dodged it. "Gabriella!" he said, a little louder. "Wake up, it's important."

Gabriella smoothed back the mop of curly hair over her eyes. "What," she hissed, "is so important that you had to wake me up at bloody half-past twelve?!"

Nathan handed her the letter. Sighing with impatience, Gabriella snapped on her bedside lamp and squinted at it.

Nathan was not expecting Gabriella to let out a howl of delight and fling the bedcovers in his face.

"_ARE YOU SERIOUS?!_" she grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. "Have you told Mum and Dad about this?"

Nathan shook his head quickly. Gabriella sprung out of bed, grabbed him by the forearm and dragged him to their parent's room.

The next twenty minutes passed in a disoriented blur. There was a lot of cheering on Gabby's part, a lot of weeping on Nathan's mum's part and a lot of being clapped on the back from the half-asleep Mr. Adder.

At one o'clock, Mrs. Adder had made a triple-layer devil's food cake with purple icing (and a magical fizzing candle placed on top) and was practically force-feeding it to Nathan.

"_Imagine_ that!" Mrs. Adder squealed. "I knew you had potential! I always knew it!"

"You're getting crumbs on his jammies, Mum." Gabriella pointed out, a big wedge of cake already on her own plate.

Mr. Adder could really do nothing except keep clapping Nathan on the back.

Nathan merely winced and smiled between mouthfuls of cake and tried to ignore the fact that his mother was wetting his shoulder with joyful tears.

His heart was light and fluttering against his chest as he glanced again and again at the broken red wax seal of Hogwarts. He wondered what he had done to receive such a miracle.

* * *

Mrs. Taylor had endured the barrage of questions well, until they had turned absolutely silly ("Can we move things with our minds?" Misako inquired dreamily, to which Mrs. Taylor had retorted loudly, "This is not a Superman comic!" and shooed them up to bed).

"And besides," Misako reasoned absent-mindedly. "Superman couldn't move things with his mind." As she spoke, she pulled her hair back into a large scrunchie. "Now Jean Grey – _there _was a person with telekinesis."

Laura gaped at her friend, sitting cross-legged on a mound of cushions. "Are…we even talking about the same thing anymore?"

Misako nodded earnestly as she pulled an X-Men comic from her bag. "We could be like X-Men," she mused. "Magical X-Men."

Laura shook her head. "No, we're definitely not talking about the same thing anymore."

* * *

**A/N: **Not a lot happening in this chapter, but please continue following!


	5. V: In Which, Parents Are Informed

**A/N: **This is the fifth chapter. It's shorter than the other chapters because the next part takes place in the morning. And I have too many paragraph breaks and jumping from character to character to stand. They _should _get to Hogwarts soon, though.

I think.

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and its characters, places, or things belong to J.K. Rowling. I don't own anything.

* * *

Looking back on that night and the days following, Lee realized that if things had gone the way she had wanted, she would have ever gone to Hogwarts. Her initial plan after she read the letter was to put it through the shredder and somehow convince her mum to keep the strange cat that had appeared out of nowhere (mostly by ridding her mum of the idea that cats liked to sit on babies' faces and suffocate them during the night).

Lee was not the type to disregard every obvious sign of magic or the supernatural that came along and whacked her in the face, but she also wasn't going to just up and go to a school that she had neither heard of, nor applied to (especially if said school trusted cats to deliver acceptance letters).

Luckily for Lee, the cat that had made its way from Scotland to the East End of London in one evening was a bit more intelligent than the average housecat. Lee stumbled back to her bedroom, placed the letter on a shelf already sagging from the weight of books, several sketchbooks and a biscuit tin full of rocks, and fell asleep again. The cat, curled up at the foot of Lee's bed, twitched its ear twice, waited for the girl's breathing to even out, and then sprung into action. It scaled Lee's bedpost neatly, batted the letter until it fell to the carpet, then picked it up in its mouth and padded out of the room.

Not surprisingly, the cat headed for the kitchen. After placing the letter somewhere that it was sure to be found the cat, feeling extremely self-satisfied (and a little smug), clawed a red tea towel down from the oven door handle and settled down on it to sleep.

* * *

Damia pounced on her parents (who were slightly reeking of alcohol and talking a little too loudly) the second they opened the front door.

"Mum, Dad, lookit this!" she shoved her letter in their faces. Elsie Archer stared at it, eyes slightly unfocused. She was an otherwise pretty woman, the edges of her mouth lined with wrinkles and her wavy reddish-brown hair brushed back and held with a large clip.

"What _is_ this?" she asked her daughter. Damia shrugged. "A snake delivered it to me, and Naomi says it's a letter to a magic school. Am I a witch? Are _you_ a witch?"

Mrs. Archer stared at the letter again for a bit, than giggled helplessly and asked, "_What?_"

Damia sighed noisily through her nose (something she did often when her mother was tipsy) and turned to Naomi. "See? I told you they didn't know either!"

Naomi looked thoughtful. "So you're both Muggles, then?" she asked. Damia's father, John Archer, frowned. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a rather silly looking moustache. "What's that you're calling us?"

"Oh, no," Naomi held up her hands. "It's not an insult. It just means you're not wizards."

"Wizards?" Mrs. Archer asked, and then gasped. "Damia, I told you you're not allowed to show your friends where the liquor cabinet is!"

"Whoah! This is not my fault! Naomi's the one – "

"Look, if you'd just listen to me I'd be able to explain _everything_ – "

Any further confusion that might have occurred was interrupted when, with a sharp _pop_, a stiff-backed woman wearing oddly coloured robes and a pointed hat appeared in the middle of Damia's living room.

Everybody jumped; Mrs. Archer lost her balance and Mr. Archer knocked over several coasters on the entranceway table.

The woman, whose black hair was pulled back in a tight bun, looked over at them mirthlessly through her spectacles.

"Mr and Mrs. Archer?" she asked. Mrs. Archer put a hand to her heart. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice wavering. "Please get out of our house!"

The woman looked a little put out. "Mrs. Archer, I assure you that I'm not here to harm you in any way. Your daughter has recently received an acceptance letter to our school, and seeing that you are both Muggles, I have been sent by the school to explain about Hogwarts. My name is Professor Minerva McGonagall. I teach Transfiguration at Hogwarts."

She glanced at Naomi.

Naomi blinked. "Oh. I'm Naomi Winchel. I got my letter too…"

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Ah, yes. The Winchel's child. Do your parents know about your letter?"

"No," Naomi admitted. "It was delivered here. I haven't seen my parents yet."

"Hm." Professor McGonagall's lips flattened. Naomi prayed feverishly that Transfiguration was not mandatory.

"Well, Miss Winchel, I have met your parents and I can rightly assume that they are knowledgeable about Hogwarts, having been students there themselves. I suggest you go home and let them know the happy news."

Naomi nodded. It took a half hour for her to ring for a taxi and find her new bat Nautilus (he was hiding in the glassware cupboard). "You can come shopping with me for school supplies, if you want." She told Damia, who looked a little bit lost.

Once Naomi had shut the door behind her, Professor McGonagall gestured to the couch. "Please. Sit down. This may come as quite a shock."

Unsteadily, Mrs. Archer sank down on the couch. Her husband and daughter followed.

"Are you a witch too, Professor?" Damia asked uncertainly. Professor McGonagall gave her a dry look, and then pointed her wand at a lamp near the couch. It turned into a canary and started flitting around the room. Mrs. Archer screamed and looked very white. Mr. Archer gripped the arm of the couch.

"That's so cool!" Damia grinned. "I want to do that!"

Professor McGonagall's lips twitched upwards briefly.

"Now," she said. "Mr and Mrs. Archer, I'm pleased to inform you that your daughter is a witch."

Damia's parents looked very shell-shocked and didn't reply. Professor McGonagall continued anyways.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is a school for training the young magical children of the British Isles. At age eleven, witches and wizards receive their letters to Hogwarts and attend the school for seven years."

"There must be some mistake," Mrs. Archer said slowly. "Damia's fourteen. Why didn't she get her letter earlier?"

"We don't know," Professor McGonagall replied. "The only explanation is that Miss Archer's magical abilities surfaced late. Miss Winchel, for example, was born to two wizards, but was considered to be a Squib for most of her life. Obviously, her letter proves otherwise."

"A – Squib, sorry?" Mr. Archer asked.

"A Squib is a child of wizards that cannot do magic – however, they are aware of the wizarding world, which makes them different from Muggles."

"…Muggles?"

"Muggles are non-magical people, like you and your wife."

Mr. Archer still thought it sounded rather insulting.

"Now, Miss Archer, attached to your acceptance letter is a list of school supplies. There is a place near King's Cross called Diagon Alley, that caters to the school and shopping needs of London's witches and wizards."

Damia pulled out said supply list, and read it over. "Robes? A cauldron? This is the weirdest supply list I've ever seen…wait! Do I get a broom?!"

Professor McGonagall nodded. "You may choose to buy a broom and try out for your Houses' Quidditch team. Quidditch is a type of sport played on broomsticks. Although," she added, curving her lips into a wry smile. "I'm sure there will be other things this year that will involve your attention.

"Seeing as how you have missed the last three years of your schooling, you will be required to attend evening and weekend classes at Hogwarts to catch up."

"Three years worth of school?" Damia asked incredulously. "That'll be really hard!"

Professor McGonagall gave her a look. "Yes, but I'm certain you will be able to catch up. When you arrive at school, you will follow the first years, as they will be taking a different route then the other students. You will also attend flying lessons with the first years. All other classes and events will be taken with the students of your year."

Damia turned large eyes towards her parents. "Oh my God Mum, I _have_ to go to this school! I – I can learn to turn things into _canaries_!!"

Mr and Mrs. Archer exchanged worried glances.

"I don't know dear," Mrs. Archer started. "I mean, this is all very new to us, and you'd be in Scotland for almost a year."

"C'moooon!" Damia pleaded. "I could be a _witch_!"

"You _are _a witch," Professor McGonagall corrected her sternly. "And whether you attend Hogwarts or not won't change that fact." She turned to address Damia's parents. "Sending your daughter to our school guarantees her a good schooling in magic and helps her to control and use it for the best."

"I think it would be a very good idea, Elsie," Mr. Archer told his wife. "After all, we know nothing about – about _wizards_. We wouldn't be able to help her."

Mrs. Archer paused, worrying her bottom lip. "All right," she said finally. "But I'm afraid I have no idea where 'Diagon Alley' is."

Damia was too busy jumping around to notice her mother's last words. Professor McGonagall, who had never been a fan of spontaneous physical celebration, neatly sidestepped Damia as she spun around in elated circles.

"I'm quite certain that Miss Winchel would be more than happy to escort your daughter to Diagon Alley, Mrs. Archer."

Professor McGonagall handed Damia a train ticket. "This is your ticket to Platform 9 ¾. Term starts on September 1st. You will catch the train at King's Cross Station."

"Platform 9 ¾?" asked Mrs. Archer. "Wait a minute, there is no –"

Professor McGonagall stood straight-backed in the centre of the living room, tipped her hat politely to the confused family, and then disappeared with a _pop_.

" – Platform...9 ¾..."

& & &

Naomi barrelled out of the cab and rushed up the steps of her family's small bungalow on Casson Street. There were no lights in the house – her parents thought she was staying over at Damia's house, and so had not waited up for her. Fumbling with her key, she knocked her elbows several times against the door and finally managed to stumble into the darkened house.

Her tabby, Peapod, slipped out the door while she was preoccupied.

"MUM! DAD!" Not bothering to take her shoes off, Naomi sped through the kitchen and living room to get to her parent's bedroom.

Suzanne Winchel was actually in the bathroom, getting ready for bed, and so opened the bathroom door so quickly she smacked her daughter in the face. Naomi went reeling backwards, swearing.

Mrs. Winchel, a pretty woman with raven hair and a heavily lined face, rushed forwards to assist her. Adam Winchel, a beefy man in his late forties, opened the bedroom door with a bleary expression on his square face.

"Honey?" he asked. "I thought you were spending the night at Damia's?"

"Da-ad!" Naomi whined, clutching her nose while simultaneously rummaging for some ice in the freezer. "Now's not the time! I came home because I got this letter!" she shoved the Hogwarts letter into her father's hands.

Mr. Winchel read the letter, and then passed it wordlessly to his wife, who was approaching Naomi with a cold washcloth.

Once Mrs. Winchel realized that her daughter had finally been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she screamed, dropped the cloth and pulled her daughter into a hug (not minding that Naomi's nose was leaking blood all over her nightgown).

"My baby girl, in _Hogwarts_! Oh! Oh, I'm speechless!"

"No, you're obviously not," Naomi muttered against her mother's chest as she was randomly spun around. Mr. Winchel, in the meantime, was clearing his throat with some obvious difficulty.

"I wonder what House you'll be in," Mrs. Winchel wondered as she dabbed at Naomi's nose with another washcloth. "Of course, it wouldn't surprise me if you were in Ravenclaw...that was my house you know. Your father's too. Oh, this is wonderful...Adam, you'll use Marigold to reply for her, won't you?"

Mr. Winchel nodded and started towards the back door. Marigold was Mrs. Winchel's old and distinguished Horned Owl from her school days (though, why anyone would name such a stately creature 'Marigold' was beyond Naomi's understanding).

"We'll have to owl your grandparents too, they'll be so proud..."

As Mrs. Winchel began making a list of family members to contact, Naomi sank into a kitchen chair, pressed fingers against her nose tenderly, and sighed. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

**A/N: **Next one will be up soon! 


	6. VI: In Which, Misako Talks to Her Mum

**A/N: **Another shorter chapter, but I've been so busy I thought I'd post this and get it out of the way so someone can frickin' get to the magic part already!

**Disclaimer: **J.K. Rowling IS GOD!

* * *

Delilah Owen roused herself around 6:45am, uttering a jaw-cracking yawn and trying to smooth down her frizzy, rust-coloured hair. She was not a morning person and so she slid out of bed without waking her husband, and made her way to the kitchen. As she padded towards her beloved coffee pot, she trod on something soft and squishy that yowled like a devil. She let out a shriek herself and leapt backwards. The cat she had stepped on fled under the table, nursing its tail.

Delilah's attention to the cat was diverted by the short, stout man sitting on one of her kitchen chairs. He was so tiny, his feet didn't even brush the floor.

Delilah dropped the mug she was holding and gaped. A bedroom away, Lee jerked awake with a snort. A quick look around told her that the cat was not in her room and, preparing for the worst, crept towards the kitchen.

Lee found her mother holding a saucepan and brandishing it in a threatening manner in the direction of a very short man. The man was holding a wooden stick and crying, "Madam, I need you to calm down! Madam!" in a very high, squeaky voice.

Lee blinked rapidly several times to make sure she had cleared all the sleep from her eyes. The little man was still there, dressed in loose, flowing violet robes.

"Liana!" her mother hissed. "Go call the police!"

The little man looked up at her and gave a wide smile. "Miss Owen!" he squeaked. "A pleasure, a pleasure!" he trotted forward and reached up to shake her hand. Lee never thought she would meet a person that was shorter than she was. "My name is Professor Flitwick. I am the Charms teacher at Hogwarts School."

"Don't talk to him, Liana!" her mother yelled. "Call the police!"

"Mum, calm down!" Lee urged. "Did you send that cat?" she asked Professor Flitwick, who beamed.

"You did get it then! I hadn't expected them to send the letters so soon this year…"

He held out her letter to her, from where he had found it on the kitchen table. The cat, though still looking a bit ruffled, gave a satisfied meow. Lee stared at it. "So – it wasn't a prank, then?"

Professor Flitwick shook his head. "You, my dear, are a witch. It's a very odd circumstance, seeing as how you were supposed to get your letter three years ago, but…"

Mrs. Owen lowered her saucepan a bit. "Liana? What is he talking about?"

Lee held her letter out to her mother. "I found this cat last night. It was carrying this letter. It says I'm a witch."

Mrs. Owen read it over, attempted to say something, and then shouted down the hallway, "BRETT! GET IN HERE!!"

Seconds later Brett Owen, Lee's father, ran clumsily into the kitchen, wearing a t-shirt and boxers. He was a bookish looking man, with a mop of mousy-coloured hair, stubble and oval glasses.

"What's happening??" he panted. Lee wrinkled her nose. "Dad!" she whined. "Put some pants on!"

Mr. Owen shuffled his feet when he realized there was a visitor in the kitchen. "Sorry honey," he apologized.

"So what's going on, dear?" he asked his wife. "I wasn't aware we had company today – "

Mrs. Owen looked a little frustrated. "Your daughter," she started. "Has been accepted to some kind of – of _witchcraft_ school."

Mr. Owen's eyes widened. "_Really_? _Our_ daughter? Well, this is…" he grabbed onto the counter for support. "This is _wonderful_!"

Mother and daughter gaped. Professor Flitwick stayed silent, momentarily forgotten. "Wonderful?" Mrs. Owen repeated, a little shrilly. "How do we know this isn't a trick?"

"No, no. It's not a trick. I – " Mr. Owen looked lost for words. "How do I put this – my mother was a witch."

"Granma was a witch?" Lee asked. "Cool!"

Mrs. Owen stared at him, incredulous. "Your mother? Does…er…that mean – ?"

Mr. Owen shook his head. "No, I'm a Squib."

Mrs. Owen tilted her head. "You're a what, sorry?"

"I'm a _Squib_, dear. I'm a non-magical person born to wizards. I was the youngest of four boys, and only my brother Logan inherited the magical genes."

Lee was surprised. Her father rarely ever talked about her Uncle Logan – from what little she had heard, he was in prison.

"Ah yes," said Professor Flitwick, "I remember Logan. Smart lad. It's a shame what he got into. I'm very sorry."

Lee's father nodded, a little bashful. "Yes, it was – quite a shock to our mother when she found out."

Lee was practically bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. "What? What did Uncle Logan do? What, Dad?"

Mr. Owen took a deep breath. "Well, sweetheart, just like with the Muggle world, there are good wizards and there are bad wizards. There is – was, I mean, a very powerful Dark wizard named Voldemort."

Professor Flitwick winced. He went unnoticed. "Voldemort did a lot of bad things, Liana, before he was finally stopped. He had a group of followers that called themselves 'Death Eaters'. They did just as many bad things as their Master. Your Uncle Logan...well, he was always very impressionable. Just after he left Hogwarts, he up and joined the Death Eaters. After Voldemort was killed, Logan was arrested. He's in the wizarding prison, Azkaban."

Lee was silent. "Was he a bad person?" she asked. Mr. Owen pushed his glasses up thoughtfully. "He was never cruel to me or to his family. But he joined the Death Eaters because he had a hate for Muggleborns and the 'dirty blood' of the wizarding world, despite the fact that he wasn't as pure as some of his comrades. I suppose in that sense he was cruel. But he was a very funny, charming man. I sent him a letter when you were born. He expressed regret that he wouldn't be able to see you grow up."

Professor Flitwick looked embarrassed; like he wasn't sure he should be there. There was a short pause, before Mrs. Owen turned to the small wizard.

"I'm sorry, Professor – Flits with? But there must be a mistake – Liana is not a witch. Ever since she was born, she has been just a normal child.

Lee folded her arms crossly. "Well, obviously, I'm not. Because I have a letter. That says I'm a witch."

Mrs. Owen sent her a helpless look. "Yes, but – well – Liana, darling, you _can't_ be a witch. That's just too strange!"

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat. "Madam, if I may interrupt – your daughter has an extraordinary chance to go to school under the care of the finest wizard of our time. She will learn to do amazing things that she will not otherwise be able to do if she stays here. I assure you, Madam, the teachers are most able to keep your daughter safe and out of harm should anything go awry."

He turned to Lee and handed her a train ticket. "This is your train ticket for the Hogwarts Express. Please be at Platform 9 ¾ in King's Cross Station on September 1st." He then addressed her father. "Do you know how to get to Diagon Alley?"

Her father shook his head. "No, I never went with my brother when he was shopping for school."

"Hm – " Professor Flitwick thought for a moment, and then said, "There's a Pureblood family here in London, whose son is also starting this year. I shall ask them if they wouldn't mind taking you with them. Their son's name is Nathan, I believe. Nathan Adder."

Lee gaped. "Nathan?! Really? He's my friend, I've known him for several years!"

Professor Flitwick beamed. "Wonderful! I'll go talk to them now." He bowed slightly to Mrs. Owen, who was still dangerously close to the frying pan. "Sorry to disturb you all."

_Pop_! He vanished. Mrs. Owen dropped the frying pan.

Grinning, Lee picked up the pan and put it back on the counter. "Well, Mum?" she asked brightly. "It sounds like I'm going!"

Mrs. Owen gave her a dark stare.

* * *

Misako had left Laura's house early and arrived at her apartment building by 9AM via the underground. When she was at home, Misako did everything quietly – she tiptoed across the cool lobby, waited silently in front of the stainless steel elevator doors, and let herself into the duplex she and her mother resided in with minimal fuss.

Misako dropped her keys into the bowl on the hall table, placed her shoes in their place in the closet, and started down the hall to unpack her bag. Misako didn't need to be that quiet, of course – her mother rose at ungodly hours and would not be roused by her noise. At this moment, in fact, Misako's mother was in the kitchen, brewing espresso and reading the business section of the newspaper. But Misako had learned early on to be calm and quiet when around her mother; it was sort of how she would treat a person who was mentally unstable, though her mother was far from that.

Misa Asanuma had changed drastically in the eight years since her husband Daniel's death. When she had married him in 1975, Misa had just graduated from university, top of her class. She was a bright, outgoing (if not overambitious) young woman. When her husband died twelve years later, she became withdrawn – cool, collected, out-of-touch with everyone else. From an early age, Misako had been bustled from school to music lessons to the supper table to bed with barely a word exchanged. Even now, as Misako leaned into the kitchen and said, "Hi Mum," she was greeted with a quick glance and half a smile.

As such, Misako was apprehensive about showing her mother her Hogwarts letter. She wanted to go, of course there was no doubt about that. But it was hard to imagine the cool creature at the kitchen table allowing her to go away for almost a year to a boarding school, and much less if it was a magic school.

Still, it never hurts to try. Misako threw the clothes from her bag into the laundry hamper, replaced her X-Men comics on the shelf and pulled her old hamster cage from the back of her closet. From out of her bag she pulled the rabbit, which had been curled up and squished under her things. She stared at him for a minute, tickled his ear and then stated, "I'm going to name you Shaft."

She placed Shaft into his new cage, promising to get him something to eat, and ventured into the kitchen. Her mother looked up as she entered, and gestured to the refrigerator.

"I bought some fresh eggs this morning, if you want to prepare some for yourself." She said simply. She turned the newspaper page with a crisp crinkling sound.

Misako slid into a chair and held out her Hogwarts letter. "This came while I was at Laura's house." She decided not to mention the rabbit until after her mother saw the letter.

Misa slid the paper towards her with one finger, curiosity on her face. "Why, Misako, what _is_ this?"

Misako said nothing. Her mother's eyes flitted across the page – her expression registered fury. Misako, who had not been expecting that, impulsively leaned back in her chair.

"Hogwarts?" her mother muttered, mostly to herself. "I told them to take you off their register!"

Misako started. "You _knew_?!"

"Yes, of _course_ I knew Misako dear, now really!" her mother snapped. "Daniel barely put his wand down most times, never _mind_ when you were born! He'd charm your teddy bears to sing to you and your juice to turn different colours and God knows what else!"

Misako crossed her arms over her chest, a large lump of something uncomfortable welling up in her throat. "And – and did you know I was a witch?"

Her mother sighed, and leaned across the table, handing her back her letter.

"Of course. Your father always said he hoped one day you would go to Hogwarts, like him. But then he died and – " she faltered, sniffed sharply, and resumed her speech, " – and I was left alone to care for you and our home and my job. Daniel's mother offered to come stay with us awhile, but I just couldn't bear to have another one of those..._people_ in my house. I sent a letter to the school, telling them that you weren't a witch, and so you wouldn't be attending Hogwarts. The Headmaster was skeptical, but he did as I wished. When you were young, you used to use magic all the time, and I would scold you. Eventually, you stopped. I just assumed that you weren't a witch anymore."

Misako spluttered several times before exclaiming, "So you were just going to let me go on with my life not knowing this?"

Her mother stared at her. "Well...yes." she said, like it was the most obvious thing.

Misako felt something very odd brewing in her stomach – a combination of anger and grudging pity for the woman across the table. "I'm going," she said quietly. Her mother, who was had been examining the letterhead, looked up. "Sorry?"

"I said, I'm going." Misako repeated. "I want to go to Hogwarts."

Her mother stared her down coolly. "Misako, you're not going to that school. You are not a witch. You are my daughter, and since I am your mother I have the final say. You're not going."

"Are you serious? Dad wouldn't have wanted this, he – "

"Your father," Mrs. Asanuma said, rising out of her seat, "Was a good man, but a very foolhardy one. He was so preoccupied with his magic and his school friends that he wouldn't know what was right for you if it had slapped him in the face. No, Misako, your father may have wanted this but I do not. That's it."

Mrs. Asanuma then proceeded to rip the letter into several pieces and throw it in the trash.

Misako spluttered several times like a sea-less fish, and then strode over to the trashcan, heaved up the entire plastic lining, and took it with her into her room. The door slammed sharply behind her. Her mother actually winced as the lock clicked into place.

"Misako, now really." She tried. "This is all very childish of you."

There was a faint sound behind the door the sounded vaguely like Misako had just blown a raspberry. Misa Asanuma crossly thought that it wasn't the appropriate time to be doing that _at all._

* * *

**A/N: **Ahaha. Told you it was short.


End file.
